


Client

by Thirsty_on_Pseud (orphan_account)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Collars, Dom/sub, Hand Feeding, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Impact Play, Leashes, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Tiefling, Total Power Exchange, Verbal Humiliation, idk how it became this big, no editing we die like men, this was ment to be 1k words tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 20:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Thirsty_on_Pseud
Summary: Andre feels the call of a warm bed and mature company. Thankfully a familiar face appears and Andre can allow himself to float into oblivion.AKA: Kinky smut written about my dnd character by someone who has never seen a dick irl





	1. Chapter 1

It would be winter soon. Andre was sure of it, there was the distinct chill in the air that threatened to sink into his bones if he stayed still too long. He didn’t do that too often, stay still. He had seen people who just sat still and begged at passersby see them grow frail and ill and die. 

No, Andre wasn’t one for sitting still. 

Nor was he, a big fan of sleeping in the cold. Of course, he did it, he couldn’t count how many times he had slept in an alleyway, hidden by crates or the rubbish that people had thrown out of their homes. Often he found himself in the center of a cuddle-pile with his kids, all of them of their own parentage, all using him as their own personal hearth fire. Not that he complained. 

Tonight, however, he didn’t particularly feel like sleeping on the ground in some alleyway. No, tonight he felt the call of a warm bed and some mature company. 

Running taloned fingers through his hair, detangling what he could, he began to make his way towards the best streets to find work on an evening such as this. 

As he walked he fixed his appearance, rolling his shirt up and undoing the clasp of his trousers that attached above his tail leaving the patch of skin where tail met back that so many found tantalizing. He made himself look like a whore, but one that knew what he was doing. 

Approaching the familiar street he adjusted his walk, his tail unwrapping itself from around his leg to move behind him as he swished in with a sense of self-importance he really did not possess. He found a corner and leaned against the uneven brick, his gaze moving to examine those who walked by; searching for someone interested in what he had to offer. 

Andre lost track of how long he stood there, smiling and giving ‘bedroom eyes’ to passers-by until he saw a familiar face. 

“Kylen?” He called out the half elvish man, “What brings you round these parts?” Andre pushed himself off the wall and stalked his way over Kylen. 

Kylen, a rather imposing man with his large frame that made him seem more like a warrior or sailor perhaps rather than the tailor that he was. Andre, tall as he was, still had to raise his head to look into the other man's eyes, which were a lovely shade of green Andre wasn’t afraid to admit. 

“Andriel.” Kylen nodded his head in greeting, his voice a low baritone. “I could ask you the same question.” 

“Now, must you really insist on calling me by that name?” Andre laughed, his hand finding its way to rest on the blonds bicep “No one but you calls me that.”

Kylen’s eyes twinkled with a kind of mirth, “Perhaps that’s why I call you it.” He chuckled, “Why would I call you by something that everyone knows you by when, in a way, I know your true name.” he wrapped an arm around Andres' shoulder, pulling him into his side, “Besides that's the name your mother gave you is it not? Why would she name you such a thing if she did not want you to use it?”

“My mother named me after a hero she fancied.” If Kylen noticed the strain in Andre’s voice as he spoke, he did not show it.

“It is a perfectly fine name.”

Andre tilted his head, looking up at Kylen through his eyelashes, “Did you come into this part of town to talk about my name? Or is there something else you’re looking for this dreary night?” 

Kylen grinned, showing teeth as white as freshly fallen snow. “If you come with me, I’m sure it shall be a lot less dreary don’t you think?”

Andre leaned into Kylen, whose arm still rested casually against his shoulders, “Let's be off then, I think it might rain soon and I wouldn’t want to catch a chill.” 

Kylen lead the way as they walked, it did not matter that Andre knew the many different paths to Kylen's home by now, he simply let himself be lead and to carry on this easy conversation. He asked about Kylen’s wife and children who, he was informed, were on a trip to the inlaws to the nearby town. Unlike many of his clients, Kylen's spouse knew of Andre and even had met him on occasion. She had come to understand that while her husband loved her, had needs that she did not wish to aid in, so she was more than happy for the purple tiefling whore to do so for her. 

Kylen, as he often did, praised Andre for his excellent conversation skills and ability to speak ‘like a well bread nobleman’. Andre simply inclined his head and thanked Kylen for such praise. He knew it was true, that when he so wished it, he was rather gifted with his words- to the point he was skilled enough that a well-placed insult could cause real damage.  
He had his mother to thank for that, he had her to thank for many things, she had always insisted that he learned from the traveling bards she housed, that he learn how to dip his tongue in silver and make his words taste of honey. 

Kylen closed and locked the front door of the house behind him. Andre rolled his shoulders and allowed his gaze to fall to the floor. He knew the rules now, they were second nature, the moment the key turned in the lock, they were no longer equals. 

Kylen’s hand, large and gentle ran down Andres right horn, down his head and wound itself around the back of his neck. 

“I think I’ll have you on your knees.” Kylen’s voice was even, strong, authoritative. 

“Yes, Sir.” Andre sunk to his knees gracefully, years of practice keeping him from slamming down onto them. Kylen made a noise of approval, his hand that had been wrapped around the back of Andre’s now rested at the base of one of his horns, feeling fingernails gently scratch across his scalp Andre leaned into the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed. And then it was gone. 

Kylen took a step back and told Andre to stay. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He was only gone for a minute or so and when he returned, finding Andre where he had left him, he had wordlessly wrapped a leather dog collar around the teiflings neck and attached a leash. 

“How does that feel? Not too tight?” 

Andre rolled his neck. “No, it’s good Sir. Thank you, Sir.” 

“Good Boy.” 

The praise washed over him like warm water, enveloping him in the feeling. 

“Remind me of your words.” 

“Green for good. Yellow to pause for a moment and discuss. Red to safe-word.” 

“Good boy. And if you can’t speak?” 

“Hum the tune of ‘six kobolds digging’.” 

The other said nothing in response scratched gently at one of Andre’s horns, a gesture of ‘well done.  
Kylen began to walk his way towards what Andre knew by now was the living space of the home, he followed, crawling on his hands and knees alongside his Sir like a faithful dog. 

The half-elf man warmed up a stew that had been sitting over the fireplace and served himself a large helping. 

He sat and ate in a peaceful silence, the stew smelled of meat and spices. Andre could feel his stomach twisting in hunger, he had last ate midday yesterday- some stale bread that had been thrown into the street by one of the bakeries. But he did not whine nor beg for the food, he sat obediently by Kylen's feet and accepted the few mouthfuls he was granted, taking the meat from loose fingers and cleaning said fingers; licking and sucking away the gravy each time. 

When Kylen had finished eating he had once again petting Andre’s hair. “Your hair is filthy when was the last time you combed it?” 

Andre tensed, he didn’t think his hair was that bad. But then he thought back; when was the last time he had properly combed his hair? He had given his comb to a young half-orc teenager who had complained that their hair frizzed so much and since they had been sleeping rough they couldn’t afford to buy themselves one. But that had been a month ago! Surely Andre had bought a comb since then?  
A harsh tug on his hair pulled him back into the room. 

“I asked you a question, are you really that stupid you can’t remember the last time you brushed your hair?” 

“I apologise, Sir,” Andre said, his breath coming out heavy with arousal, “I cannot remember. It might have been last month.” 

“Pathetic.” 

Andre only whimpered. He had never been able to pinpoint what it was exactly that made being insulted so arousing, he supposed it was the power held over him. Perhaps it was the punishment, the idea that someone knew how truly a pathetic person he really was and treated him how he deserved. Whatever the case, it was hot. 

Kylen rose from his seated position and made his way towards the staircase, seeming to not care whether Andre kept up or not, pulling at the leash, dragging the teifling behind him. 

They ended up in the bedroom, Kylen commanded that Andre stripped and knelt at the foot of the bed. He did so quickly and neatly, folding his clothing and placing it in a pile as was the norm with Kylen. When he glanced up from his kneeling position he wasn’t sure what he had expected. Rope maybe? One of Kylen's extensive toys mayhaps. But no, the half-elf was holding a hairbrush in his hands. His wives perhaps? 

Andre frowned unsure of what the brush would be for, he supposed it could be used to beat him but Kylen very rarely used paddles to inflict pain. His silent questions were put to rest though, When Kylen sat on the bed, maneuvered Andre into a position between his legs; and began to brush his hair. 

“Sir?” Andre frowned, this was new. 

“I can’t have my things looking like they’ve been caught out in a storm can I?” Kylen's voice was reprimanding as if Andres' hair were a personal snub. 

“I’m sorry Sir.” 

The brushing continued for a while, Andre tried to let his mind go blank, to simply enjoy the feeling of being cared for. His legs began to tingle painfully in a way that urged him to move, he remained kneeling. 

Kylen made a noise of approval, low in the back of his throat as he put down the hairbrush and ran a hand through Andre’s hair tugging experimentally as he reached the ends. 

“Such a pretty little thing you are.” he murmured, hands dragging across Andres exposed skin, calloused fingers moving down his back and chest. “All for me.” 

“Yes, Sir, all for you.” 

Kaylen chuckled darkly. “Turn around pet.” 

Andre did and found himself at face level with Kylen's crotch with a rather familiar looking bulge straining against finely made trousers. Andre could feel himself beginning to salivate. “May I sir?” 

“May you what? Use your words.” 

Andre could feel himself blush, its not that he was shy of telling Kylen exactly what he wanted to do to him, it was just he was so accustomed to clients with no sense of charm themselves, Andre could dirty talk for hours and go into all kinds of graphic detail but when someone actually attempted to charm him he found himself all kinds of flustered. 

And Kylen certainly had him charmed, whether the half-elf knew it or not. 

“Sir, please may I suck your cock.” Andre looked up at Kylen, parted his lips ever so slightly and darted his tongue across them. Kylen’s eyes darkened even further. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

Having been granted permission Andre made quick work of untying the laces tugging the breaches down. He mouthed at Kylen through his smallclothes before tugging those down as well when he heard the other man make a noise of impatience. 

Andre could never understand it when people described genitalia as ‘pretty’ or any other positive adjectives. He found nothing attractive about them, he certainly didn’t look at Kylen's cock and think to himself ‘thats a hot looking cock.’ For him, genitalia didn’t look attractive, but the thought, the memory of how Kylen's cock felt inside him; that pulled a low moan out of him as he gazed at Kylen's length. 

He looked up into Kylen’s eyes, now blown so wide Andre could hardly see the green of them, licked a stripe up the shaft and then swallowed him down. With little - if any gag-reflex Andre breathed deeply, noes against Kylens well trimmed pubic hair. 

Slowly he swallowed around the cock, reveling in the groan from Kylen above him. He then went to work, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, the familiar scent of arousal surrounding him. He was moving at a painfully slow pace, he knew this, so when Kylen grabbed fistfuls of his hair and began to pull him onto his cock, Andre was not surprised. He relaxed he jaw and closed his eyes, allowing the golden glow of submission to flow through him as his Sir fucked his face. 

Time lost its coherency as Andre knelt there, Gods he loved this. Kylen had begun to thrust his hips, pushing Andre’s head down and thrusting up, hitting the back of his throat each and every time. The sharp pain of his hair being pulled was one of the few things that kept him tethered, lest he float away in this stream of submission. Andre groaned around his Sir’s cock, his own achingly hard but he did not make a move to relieve the pressure. Good boys waited for their Sir’s to give them permission, and Andre wanted desperately to be a good boy. 

After some time, minutes? Hours? Andre didn’t know at this point anymore, Kylen pulled out of Andres' mouth with a wet pop. The teifling could feel spit spilling from his swollen lips as he looked up at his Sir, he was breathing hard. 

“Colour?” Kylen's voice sounded like music to Andre, rough and breathless. 

“Green Sir.” His throat felt scratchy, it would probably sore for the next day or so. But that didn’t matter none of that mattered, all that mattered was pleasing his Sir, making him feel good. Being a good boy. 

Kylen petted his hair, tucking a few strands gently behind his ear. Andre hummed pressing his head into the touch.  
“Needy little slut aren’t you? Desperate for any attention your Sir will give you.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Kylen's booted foot shifted and moved to press between his legs, pressing against Andre’s aching cock. “Filthy little slut, getting hard just from blowing me,” The petting became rougher now, fingers now tugging at Andres' hair as they dragged through it. “Maybe I’ll just keep you like this, hard and wanting, tie you up and lock you away somewhere, keep you all to myself.” 

Andre keened and bucked his hips against the boot pressed against him, crying out at the sensation. He could picture it, being bound and kept away, in some room, warm and well fed, prick caged. Gods, Kylen walking in the door each night and using him. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted to be used, controlled, owned. 

Kylen only chuckled condescendingly, “Disgusting little thing, I don't allow this kind of behavior from my dogs let alone my toys. It seems to me that you need to learn your manners.” 

Andre whimpered but still bucked against his Sirs boot, desperate for friction. Suddenly, he was pulled upward by his hair, his hands flew up instinctively to grasp at the hand that pulled him up as he hissed in pain. Kylen rose with him, lifting him up that Andre had to balance on his toes to keep himself from the pain. 

“Get on the bed,” it wasn’t a growl, more an order; spoke in a deep voice that made Andre shudder. “On your stomach, hands above your head, good boy, tail to the side, let me see that arse.” Needless to say, Andre obeyed each instruction.

He heard a draw being opened, some rustling, then the draw being closed. Andre breathed deeply, every inch of his willpower being used to stop himself from rutting into the mattress. He wasn’t used to being denied by someone other than himself, he wasn’t used to being so undone, so used, so stripped away and bare. He had not done this with anyone else for a long while, no it was only Kylen; only his Sir who he trusted with his submission. 

Large hands pressed into his back and he felt the mattress dip beside him. Something, fabric? Ah rope. Rope dragged across his back. The sensation caused shivers to run down his spine. Kylen gripped his wrists, and began to wrap the rope around, Andre hummed as the man wrapped the rope around him, twisting and tying knots, down his arms than folding Andres’ knees and securing them so he could not close them. Wrapped up like a new years gift Andre remained plaint, only shifting and moving as Sir directed whispering “green” when he was asked if he was comfortable with securing his horns to his tail. 

When Kylen was satisfied with his work he moved back and observed. Andre whimpered, longing to be touched, a hand on his back, a leg pressed against him, anything. 

“I’m going to spank you Andreil.” Sir spoke matter o’ factly. “Why?” 

“I,” Andre took a breath, “I humped your leg, tried to pleasure myself without your permission, Sir.” 

“How many would that warrant? How many spanks for a little slut like you thinking its good enough to get pleasure out of me?” His tone was full of disapproval. 

A low noise escaped from the back of Andre’s throat. “Fifteen?”  
“Fifteen, what?” Kylen's voice appeared right behind his ear. Andre tried to turn his head but with both horns secured around the base of his tail, he could hardly move. 

“Sir, Fifteen Sir!” 

“Let's make it twenty to make up for your incompetence.” Kylen’s voice, Gods, it was heavy and pressed down on Andre like a heavy blanket. The teifling left out a choked noise, he wasn’t a masochist, he disliked spankings among other things, he liked being controlled, he liked that element of them, but he didn’t like the pain; but he’d been bad, deserved it, deserved to be put in his place. 

Slap.

First, he heard the noise, then he registered the pain, the burning stinging sensation against one of his arse cheek. He groaned, “One. Thank you, Sir.” 

Slap.

Down came the impact on his other cheek, he knew this was just the warm-up, just it still hurt. “Two. Thank you, Sir.”

Slap.  
This one burned, his whole body felt warm but his arse was on fire. “Three. Thank you, Sir.” 

Slap. Slap.Slap.  
Three came down hard and fast with lightning precision, tears pricked at his eyes. “S-Six. Thank you, Sir.” 

The impacts kept landing, Andre kept counting, kept thanking. By twelve he was crying and by sixteen he was sobbing. 

At twenty he could hardly speak, his chest heaving with sobs. “T-Twenty-y. Sob. Tha-nk. Sob. You-u. Sob. S-Sir.” 

Kylen cooed, rubbing his palms over Andres arse, “Good boy, so good.” The praise made Andre sob harder, pure joy washing over him. He had done well, he had pleased his Sir. “Took your punishment so well. Deserve an award.” 

“Please, Sir.” Andre was aching, the spanking had done nothing to ease his erection, its still hung heavy and throbbing, pre-cum gathering at the tip. “Please, Sir. Please fuck me.” 

“Is that what you want you little slut?” Sir’s fingers were prying between his cheeks now. “How badly do you want my cock?”  
“I need it, Sir! Gods I need your cock, I need you to fuck me, please! Sir! Oh, Gods! Please, Sir! Use me, use me like the slut I am, fill me up and use me I’m yours please fuck me, Sir, need you, need your cock.” Andre continued to ramble to allow wanton words of lust to leave his lips, the fingers had left his arse and he attempted to push back to find contact again but he couldn’t move so he just continued to ramble until. 

One slick finger entered him, and he moaned in relief, to push back as the digit began to fuck him, as two entered and began to spread him open, two became three. Sir curled his fingers so perfectly and Andre saw white, and then they were gone. 

He whined at the loss, “Please Sir, Please, Please Please.” He begged as if chanting as if his life depended on this very moment and then, 

Andre felt Kylen pressing in with a complete lack of patience, just dug in as deep as he would fit, rocking Andre with the force of him. “How’s it feel?”  
Andre groaned at the stretch, the tension and pure want growing in his gut. “So good, Love your cock sir” he struggled in his rope, he needed Sir to move, he needs movement but he was so still, so still. 

“Poor lamb,” Sir drawled, drew his hips back. Pushed back in, slow stroke, matched the cadence of his words. “You poor, sweet thing. It’s so obvious how much you want it, you know this, pleasing me, is your only purpose.”  
Another slow course of his hips, tracing a smooth path, back then forward again, splitting Andre, making him whimper and sniffle and attempt to shift to accommodate. A few more strokes, measured, easy, almost kind. He retreated once more. Stayed there. 

Pause.

Then Kylen abandoned all gentleness, slammed himself deep, the headboard of the bed rattling against the wall; Andre yelped in surprise, his head dropping down, even more, to press his face against the mattress. “Tell me, slut,” Sir snarled, the shift in mood like a sharp bend in a road. “Tell me who owns you.”

“You!” Andre choked out, clenched around Kylen, couldn’t help it, felt like his body was hardly under his control anymore, that he was no longer acting, just reacting. The rabbit hole of sensations. “Sir owns me!”

Kylen fucked him harder. The bed rocked back and forth. Beat a quiet tattoo against the wall. “And this ass? Who owns that?”  
“You...do…” Tears welled in Andres' eyes. “I’m Sir's slut.”

“Mmm. That’s right sweetheart And I love fucking this ass that belongs to me. Love how tight and warm you feel. Love when you squeeze my dick. Feels so fucking good.”  
Andre moaned raggedly, crying out with every thrust. He was floating, drifting down a stream. He felt like he was glowing, pleasure filling him to his very core. All that was and ever would be was his Sir was the hands gripping his hips so hard there would be bruises, the deafening sound of skin on skin and the words, the filthy words that poured from Sir’s mouth. 

 

“Fucking slut,” Kylen nipped at his earlobe. “Fucking perfect little hole, fucking,” He groaned, “It’s like your dumb whore body was only made for this, Just a tight hole for me to fuck. Is this all you’re good for, slut?”

He was being fucked, fucked hard, fucked fast, fucked until the tears flowed. He knew he was crying hard, so he gulped out “Green!” for Sir to keep going, but at the same time his brain practically shorted out, he was so close, so close yet so far, with Sir squeezing him like that, holding him tight, holding him, fucking him, never stopping.

With an indulgent groan, Sir's hips stuttered, and Andre felt the tell-tale flood of warmth, the familiar sensation of being filled. A hand still slick with oil came round and wrapped around his cock, stroking hard and fast. Andre cried out again, even louder, as he climaxed. Felt the cum practically shoot out of him, was made dizzy by the speed and intensity of coming and how it seemed to never end as Sir continued to milk him for every drop. 

When he finally floated down from it, his whole body felt liquid. He was completely content to relax, hold out for a few more strokes, was relaxed and sated and comfy and--

The last things Andre remembered before the wave swept him away was the jackhammer beat of his own heart, the heat where Sir’s hands were on him, his words all around him.

He was a goner.

When he came to he was in the bath. Steam swirled around him and the scent of some spice- sandalwood mayhaps? Surrounded him. Kylen sat at the edge of the bath massaging ointment into one of his arms. Andre sighed and relaxed further into the bath. 

“Ah, you’re back.” Kylen's voice was soft and gentle. 

An easy smile found its way onto Andres’ face, “I am.” His voice was hoarse. 

“How are you feeling?” Kylen let go of his hands and moved around to grasp the other one, Andre lifted it out of the water, his limb feeling heavy. 

“I’m good, thirsty though.” 

“Do you want me to get you some water?” Kylen was already rising to his feet but Andre shook his head. 

“No.” He didn’t want to be alone, “Stay.” 

“Okay.” 

Andre relaxed, allowed himself to be looked after. Kylen was the only client who insisted on aftercare. Even when Andre had worked at Mourners Glory, where when he subbed for clients he was always looked after by his fellow workers, even then Kylen had always insisted in giving aftercare himself.  
“I need it as much as you do.” He had said the first time in response to Andre groggily asking why he was still there. 

That's why Andre trusted him as he did, why now when freelancing, he still subbed for Kylen when he would for no one else because he knew Kylen would look after him.

After the bath he was fed a hearty helping of the stew from downstairs, dressed in comfortable night clothes that Kylen kept tucked away and placed into bed. Drifted away as Kylen held him.


	2. The morning after

“Kylen this is too much.” Andre put a hand on his hip and he inspected the gold laid before him. 

The blond shook his head, “It's your normal rate, and enough to cover your next cleaning enchantment.” 

Andre shifted his weight, he hated to do this, any other client and he would have happily accepted the 15 gold. But this was Kylen, and how he wished he didn’t need to charge the man anything, but alas, he was his whore- that was why his wife let Andre stick around, for what whore would fall for a man who got pleasure from beating him? “Are you sure?” 

“I want to do this, the enchantment makes things so much easier, no need to clean up beforehand.” 

“If you insist.” 

“I do.”  
Andre sighed and tucked the coins away. “Will you want to see me again anytime soon?”   
Kylen made a face, “My wife returns the day after tomorrow so I think not.”   
Andre shrugged good-naturedly, “Well I may be out of the city at the end of the week, I want to go that little sign up the Artagan group is holding for that new dungeon.” 

Kylen chuckled, leading Andre towards the front door. “Thinking of becoming an adventurer are you?” 

“Absolutely not,” Andre laughed, “ I want to write a ballad about the poor fools who actually think this is a smart idea.” He paused thinking, “I may even follow a few around, surely I’ll be able to find some idiots who will make an entertaining story.” 

“I’m sure you will,” Kylen opened the door, “Goodbye Andriel.” 

“See you around Kylen, you know how to find me should you want my company again,” He paused, “Sir.” and with a wink, made his way down the street, pocket, and stomach satisfied and heart heavy.


End file.
